


Never Let Go

by Kris_Morene



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris_Morene/pseuds/Kris_Morene
Summary: Emma has always been the strong one, always in charge, always in control. Is it possible for her to let her guard down and trust someone else? And what if that someone else just happens to be a pirate?
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Never Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF.net. Edited and complete! Thank you for reading!

Henry screamed as the flying monkey sank its teeth into his shoulder. His anguished cry of "Mom! Help me!" turned to an animalistic screech as fur and wings sprouted from his back. In an instant, he took off with the other monkeys, flying into the distance. "Henry!" Emma screamed after him, reaching a hand helplessly into the sky. She fell to her knees, arm still outstretched, whispering "Henry..."

Instinctively, Hook moved toward her, but Snow and Charming were suddenly by her side, wrapping a coat around her shoulders and murmuring reassurances that Henry would be safe as they hurried her away to the safety of their home.

For the next few days, he barely saw her outside her office, the light in her window burning late into the night, it's glow visible from where he stood on the quarterdeck of the Jolly Roger, watching from a distance. Almost a week later as he walked past her window, she looked up, her eyes haunted, the dark circles underneath them and the emptiness in her stare shaking him to the core. He took up residence at Granny's that afternoon, occupying a window booth so he could keep an eye on her office.

He was relieved when he saw her leave just after dusk, but instead of heading home or to Granny's for dinner, she went straight across the street to the Rabbit Hole. After a few quick words to Ruby, he headed after Emma. He found her sitting at the bar, staring into what could only be a Jameson, neat. Approaching her cautiously, he whispered "Fancy a walk, Swan?"

She jumped at his voice and turned to look at him, annoyed. "I haven't finished my drink."

He picked up her glass and downed it in one gulp, setting it firmly upside down on the bar. "Now it's done."

"That was mine, Hook." Emma's eyes narrowed.

He gave her a half-smile. "I do have a name, love."

"So do I, _Killian_." She glared. "And you owe me a drink."

He paused, glancing toward the empty pool table. "Fancy a bet?"

"What kind of bet?" She asked suspiciously.

"Eight ball. I win, you come for a walk."

"And if I win?"

"We stay here and I pick up your tab for the evening." He figured even if he lost, he could keep an eye on her and ensure she got safely home.

She considered his proposition for a moment, and then turned to him, dangling the triangle from the tip of her finger. "Break or rack?"

Wordlessly, he took the triangle from her, his fingertips lightly brushing hers, causing her breath to catch in her throat as she turned away to select a cue from the wall. As she turned back, she could see he'd expertly racked the balls and he could see her shoulders stiffen as she vowed not to underestimate him.

She stalked the table like a cat, drawing back her cue and sinking two solids on the break, followed by another, but scratching as she saw him watching her intently. He deftly caught the cue ball as it hit the rail and flew off the table, smirking at her as he rounded the table, his breath hot on the back of her neck as he whispered "Thanks, love."

The game went on, the two of them equally matched, neither noticing the crowd that grew as the town heard that the sheriff and the pirate were playing an intense game of pool, money changing hands as the onlookers placed their bets on the outcome. Finally, Hook managed to sink the eight ball while Emma still had one solid on the table.

She looked up, noticing the crowd, and shook off the eyes of the bystanders as she replaced her cue and gestured to Hook to lead on. His hand rested against the small of her back as he guided her out the door and down the street toward the docks. "When's the last time you slept, love?" he asked quietly, concern evident in his voice.

"Last night." She answered reflexively.

"I didn't ask when you last went to bed. I asked when you last properly slept." He stated.

She shrugged. "It's been a while."

"And did you eat today? Minus the liquid barley, of course." He asked, growing more concerned at her confirmation of his suspicions as he guided her down the waterfront.

"No." She shrugged again. "I was so busy I forgot."

They stopped at the gangplank to the Jolly Roger and he turned to look at her, his hand grasping her arm gently. "Emma, love, you need to take better care of yourself. You won't be any help to Henry if you're weak from hunger and exhaustion."

"I know." She stammered. "I just...I haven't been hungry."

"And you've been lying awake with worry." he finished for her. "Sheriff Swan, the savior, always looking out for everyone else..." He walked up the gangplank a few steps and extended a hand to her. "Please allow me to look after you this evening?"

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. He sighed, shaking his head. "Swan, if I wanted to take advantage, I'd have let you drink yourself into a stupor at the Rabbit Hole." He reached out his hand to cup her cheek. "I assure you, darling. Where you are concerned, my intentions are entirely honorable. You have my word."

She studied him carefully. "You're not lying."

He held out his hand to her. "Well, now that we're both aware that I've no plans to ravish you tonight, shall we?" She took his hand and allowed him to help her on board, and he chuckled, slightly chagrined when he saw the scene in front of him. "I had nothing to do with this, well, not much. I just asked Ruby to deliver some dinner for us. I had no idea she would..." His voice trailed off as he gestured to the deck.

Emma smiled at his awkwardness, looking head at the blanket spread out on the deck, complete with picnic basket, wine bottle chilling in a bucket, and pillows strewn about for lounging. She looked up and saw the fairy lights dancing around the sail. He followed her gaze and shook his head, sighing. "Swan, I know what that this must look like, and I did not bring you here tonight to seduce you, I swear."

She rested her hand on his arm. "I believe you." She paused for a moment. "And I believe you said something about dinner?'

He motioned her forward and they settled down on the blanket. Hook was relieved to find several bottles of water in the bucket along with the wine and made a mental note to make sure Emma finished at least one before offering her any more alcohol.

He reached into the basket and pulled out a container of fruit, followed by cheese, crackers and salami, and a plate of finger sandwiches. "Ruby is quite the matchmaker."

"Because of sandwiches?" Emma asked skeptically.

Hook gestured to the food. "This is a lovers' meal."

Emma's brow furrowed as she examined the food. "Just looks tasty to me."

"Finger foods. Small pieces." He held out a strawberry to her. "Meant to be fed to one's partner."

Expecting her to reach for the strawberry, his eyes widened as she leaned forward and took the tip into her mouth, her lips brushing lightly against his fingertips. He quickly suppressed the spark of desire that rose within him as she closed her eyes in pleasure, swallowing the bit of berry. He'd sworn to himself that this evening was about what Emma needed, about getting her to eat, relax, and rest, to forget about all the troubles that were constantly pressing on her, but her lips stained with the berry juice looked so damn kissable-

He wrenched his mind away from that train of thought and turned to grab a bottle of water for her. She raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the glass bottle in the bucket. "No wine?"

He gestured to the water. "I want you to relax, love, but I'd prefer you do it sober." She nodded and took a sip of the water, finishing half the bottle in one go as Hook held out the sandwiches. "Looks like we have cheese, turkey, and ham." He gestured to the plate and she snagged a sandwich.

His back to the mast, he looked up at the fairy lights floating around the sail and railings. "I wonder what Ruby told the Blue Fairy to get her to go along with this?"

Emma shrugged. "It was probably Tink. She's got her wings back now."

He nodded in agreement, taking a sandwich for himself and finishing it off in two bites. "Probably. She's more the type."

Emma leaned back on her hands, looking up. "It really is pretty, though, the lights and all the stars..."

With the word 'stars', the fairy lights dimmed slightly, allowing them to see more of the night sky on this moonless evening. Emma smiled "Apparently whichever fairy it was planned for us to do a little stargazing."

"Stargazing." Hook grumbled. "The stars aren't right in this accursed land."

Emma scooted over near him. "You just don't know our constellations yet." She looked up. "See, there's Cassiopeia. Her constellation looks like a W." She pointed skyward and Hook followed her gaze to the stars. "You can see her all year long, but sometimes she's upside down. Legend says that she boasted to the sea that she was more beautiful than the mermaids, and the sea god Poseidon – I guess that would be Ariel's father?" At his nod, she continued. "Well, legend says that he chained her into her throne in the sky, and she spends part of the year hanging upside down to remind those here on Earth that there are consequences for arrogance." She smiled. "There are all kinds of stories about the stars here. Some war stories, some romantic, some just sad."

She pointed out a few more constellations as they finished their meal. Hook straightened up and rested his back against the mast, dropping one of the pillows between his spread knees. "C'mere, love." he gestured to the pillow.

She looked at him skeptically and he signed in exasperation. "Swan, how many times do I have to tell you that I have no plans to seduce you tonight? If you won't believe me, believe your own super power."

She gave in, settling between his knees on the pillow, her back to him, looking out at the stars dancing on the calm water. He brought his hand up to her neck, gently massaging away the tension. Her eyes slid closed as she exhaled slowly, relaxing into his touch. "Damn, Hook-"

"I have a name, Princess."

"Killian." She corrected herself, looking back at him apologetically. "Where'd you learn that? You could've been a masseuse."

He chuckled sardonically. "Not with only one hand, I'm afraid."

"You seem to be managing just fine. That feels good." She murmured.

He let his head fall back against the mast as he worked on her shoulders, his eyes closing so as not to keep staring at that point where her shoulder met her neck, his mind focusing on his right hand pulling the tension away from her muscles. The hook at the end of his left arm dug into the wood on the deck in frustration, a manifestation of his determination to keep his desire for her out of this, but the soft glow of the fairy lights and sweet scent of her hair were certainly not on his side tonight.

Hook gently worked the tension from Emma's neck and shoulders, feeling her gradually relax against his chest. His arms settled around her waist, carefully keeping the tip of the hook far away from her flesh. He brought his coat around to cover them both as his eyes drifted closed, lulled to sleep by the rocking of the waves and the scent of her hair.

An hour or so later, he awoke as the fog rolled in, knowing with the chill in the air and the oncoming storm that they couldn't remain on deck. "Swan." He whispered softly.

Getting no response, he cursed silently to himself and gathered her into his arms, always mindful of his hook, and carried her down to his quarters. He set her gently on the bed, covering her with his coat. He thought briefly about joining her; the bed was certainly big enough, but he considered her earlier suspicion of him and resigned himself to the hammock strung up in the corner meant for the cabin boy when there was one. His hook removed and resting on the table, he settled down into the hammock, falling into a restless slumber.

"Henry!" He woke with a start to Emma's cry to see her tossing on the bed. "Henry!" She sat up, wide eyed, looking around the room in a panic. "Where am I?"

He approached her cautiously. "In my quarters. We fell asleep on deck and there was a storm coming in. I thought it best to let you rest, as you said you hadn't been sleeping."

The clock tower struck two outside the window as she pushed the coat aside. "I should go." He sighed. "Swan, it's two in the morning. Just go back to sleep." He touched her arm and realized she had woken in a cold sweat from her nightmare. "I'll get you something to sleep in."

He turned to his wardrobe and handed her a clean black shirt, longer than most of his, figuring it would cover her almost to her knees if she didn't want to sleep in her jeans. He gestured with his chin to the door on the other side of the room. "Washroom is through there. I'm going to secure a few things on deck, as its starting to blow out there."

He headed out the door, waiting outside for a few minutes. He had already secured all that was required earlier, but thought he should give her some privacy to change. When he returned, she had actually changed into his shirt and had pulled his jacket back over her lap. "You can sleep in the bed, Princess, not just on it. Sheets are clean, I promise." He moved to the candle burning on the table near his hammock. "I'll be over here."

Seeing her climb under the quilt, he snuffed out the candle and turned toward the hammock when he heard her soft whisper in the darkness. "Killian?"

He crossed the room in two strides, his hand finding her arm in the darkness. "What is it, love?" Her hand curled around his. "I haven't slept, really slept, all week." She paused. "Except here."

He squeezed her hand. "Then go back to sleep, love. I'll be two steps away."

"No!" Her hand tightened on his. "I mean... Would you stay with me?"

He let out a slow breath. Emma had no idea what she was asking of him, to lie next to her, to hold her when he longed to do so much more. "As you wish." He heard himself say.

She shifted to pull back the blankets and he settled in next to her before he could talk himself out of it. She turned to the wall and he curled up around her, his arm around her waist, holding her close.

"Hook?" She asked softly.

"Still not my name, love."

"Sorry. I just..." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything. Tonight's just been exactly what I needed, and you've been such a gentleman, and I'm sorry I didn't trust you earlier."

He chuckled to himself. "I don't give my word often, Princess, but when I do, well..." He considered his words. "A pirate may not have much honor, lass, but I'll keep the little I've got." He felt her relax against him and his mouth opened again before he thought better of it. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Princess, I've every intention of ravishing you. Just not tonight." His breath was hot on her neck. "You see, my goals are more long term than just tonight, love." His hand trailed lightly over her collar bone, toying with the laces closing her shirt. "I do want your body, Princess. But first..." His fingertip dipped under her shirt, lightly caressing her breastbone. "I'll have your heart."

"My heart?" She looked away, shaking her head. "Don't know why you'd want it. It's pretty damaged."

"As I told you before, Princess. If it can be broken, that means it still works." He pressed a kiss to her temple and settled back into the mattress. "But that's for another day." His arm snaked back around her waist, pulling her back close against his chest. "For now, sleep."

* * *

Emma awoke in a cocoon of comforting warmth, starting slightly as she heard Hook say "Good morning, Princess, or rather, good afternoon."

"Afternoon?" Emma looked up, concerned. "What time is it?"

Hook shrugged. "About a quarter past twelve, I'd guess."

"I'm so sorry. You should've woken me." Emma looked down, embarrassed.

"Why would I have done that, love?" He asked in amusement. "You needed to rest.

"But surely you have things to do?" Emma questioned.

"Really, Princess, there aren't many better things for a man to do than to hold a beautiful woman in his arms." Killian smirked. "I was quite content, I assure you."

She blushed, then looked around frantically. "David and Mary Margaret will be worried."

"Were worried." He corrected, handing her phone to her. "After Snow White's third message this morning, I managed to figure out the operation of this infernal device and replied to her that you stayed at a friend's home due to the storm and would be home later. She seemed satisfied. At least, your phone stopped its incessant chirping."

"Thanks." She sat up, reluctant to leave the warmth of his arms, yet feeling the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her again. "I really should get back though. David and Leroy are planning on my help with the search again today."

He nodded and rose from the bed, grateful that he'd decided to sleep in his clothes. "I don't know about you, Princess, but I am ravenous. Granny's for lunch?"

"I really should get back and meet up with David." She began.

"You'll be no good to them if you faint from lack of nourishment." He pointed out. "It's afternoon, love, and you've yet to eat anything."

"Well, we do have to return Ruby's picnic basket." She conceded. "Just give me a minute to change."

He nodded, heading for the cabin door. "And Emma?" He turned at the doorway, looking back at her climbing slowly out of bed. She looked up questioningly. "Keep the shirt. It looks far better on you, Princess." He left before she could answer him. After stopping by Granny's and making sure Emma consumed at least half a sandwich, he escorted her back to her office, leaving her with a smile and a promise to see her later. He returned to his ship, concerning himself with inspecting the Jolly Roger after last night's storm and finally found his way to his cabin. He smiled when he saw that there was no trace of his shirt.

* * *

Hook knocked on the door to the home Emma shared with Mary Margaret and David, his heart pounding in his throat. This conversation was going to be difficult at best, and lethal at worst, but after brooding about it for most of the afternoon, he accepted it as something that needed to be done.

Mary Margaret opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. "Captain?"

"Killian, please." He decided getting straight to business was best. "Is the prince at home?"

She nodded. "He and Emma just got back a few minutes ago."

"May I ask a moment of your time? I have something of great importance to ask of you both."

She nodded, stepping back to let him in. "Should I call Emma as well?"

He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "She will certainly hear about this conversation eventually. She may as well be present for it. I'm quite certain she'll want to at least give me a black eye for it and would be angered at missing the chance."

Mary Margaret's eyes narrowed. "What's this about, Hook? Have you done something to hurt Emma?"

He shook his head. "Gods, no. It's just-" He thought for a moment. "Emma is your daughter, but she is not of our world. I'm quite certain she will find some of our traditions to be...offensive."

Mary Margaret looked at him in confusion. "Perhaps you'd better come in and explain." She turned to the back of the house. "David! Emma! We have a guest."

She led Hook into the living room where David was sitting on the sofa watching television. He rose to greet Hook as Emma came out from the back of the house. David offered Hook a handshake in greeting while Emma stopped with surprise in the doorway. "Hook? What are you doing here?"

He sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "Still not my name, Princess."

David motioned that they should sit, and Hook and Emma took seats across from David and Mary Margaret. Hook looked down at the floor. "I may as well be blunt. David, Mary Margaret – I'm not sure if I should address you as your highnesses... we're so far from the Enchanted Forest."

Mary Margaret reassured him "David and Mary Margaret are fine."

He looked up at them. "I would like to as your permission to court your daughter."

"What?!" Emma and David answered in one voice.

"Hook!" Emma turned on him. "You can't just go asking my parents these things! That's just so..." She fumed, at a loss for words.

"Traditional." Mary Margaret supplied. Emma sagged against the arm of the couch, too overwhelmed to argue further.

David leaned forward, met Hook's gaze and asked simply "Why?"

"Because I love her." Hook said bluntly. He looked over at Emma's sharp intake of breath. "Really, love, you can't be surprised at hearing that. I've hardly made a secret of it."

She shook her head. "I know... but that doesn't explain..." She gestured helplessly to the situation. "This!"

Hook looked at David and Mary Margaret. "I will not risk bringing down the fates on Emma because I could not be bothered with the rules of tradition. So, I ask again... may I court your daughter?"

David laughed and shook his head in amazement. "Of all the words I least expected to hear from Captain Hook, those would be on the top of the list." He looked over at Mary Margaret, who nodded slowly. "I feel I speak for both of us when I say that you may."

"Hey!" Emma said angrily. "Don't I get a say in this?"

David chuckled. "That is, you may, if you can convince Emma."

Mary Margaret rose from the couch, tugging David by the hand. "We'll let you two talk." She hurried David out of the room.

Emma rose to her feet, yelling "Killian Jones, what the hell was that?!"

"Finally, my name!" He said with a smile. He deftly caught the hand she raised to slap him. "Hear me out first, love. Then, if you still want to hit me, I'll give you a free shot. Fair enough?"

She nodded, still seething, allowing her hand to drop to her side. "Talk."

He guided her to the door. "Walk with me, love. This is a story for your ears only."

She nodded, allowing him to lead her silently to the shore. He sat on a rock and motioned for her to join him. They sat in silence for a few minutes until finally, he spoke. "First off, I am sorry. I knew that would upset you, and I apologize. I know that your world is different, that you are very used to being on your own, and making your own choices. I respect that, Emma." He looked at her to ensure she knew he was sincere before continuing. "But you're not alone here anymore. You have a family who cares for you. You have your son. Who you are...involved with, for lack of a better word, affects more than just yourself, and that's what our tradition acknowledges. This is not about your family making choices for you, love. It's about giving them the opportunity to make choices _with_ you."

Emma laughed mirthlessly. "You've never seemed overly concerned with tradition before, Hook. Why now?"

His eyes flashed at the bitter tone in her voice, and he looked out to sea, knowing she had the right to her answers, no matter how difficult it would be for him. "You've heard about Milah."

She nodded. "I know the basics. Neil's mother, Rumple's wife, and your..."

"My first love." He stared out to sea, watching the stars on the water. "I was young, I was in love, and traditions be damned. Our being foolish cost Milah her life." He looked down at the tattoo on his right wrist. "I made every mistake possible, starting with falling in love with another man's wife. We all know how that ended."

"That wasn't your fault."

He shook his head. "I should've sent Milah home to sort things out with her husband, either to fix it or end it instead of stealing her away in the dead of night, bucking every rule and every moral I was raised to respect. Loving Milah was one of the best things I ever did, but I will always regret the way I did it. I don't know if it was flouting tradition or simple bad luck, but I am not willing to take the risk again."

"What are you saying, Hook?"

"I want... I _need_ to do this right, Emma."

She looked at him in confusion. "I don't even know what _this_ is! Henry's missing, there's a witch turning half the town into flying monkeys, and you want to _court_ me?!"

"I would never interfere with you finding Henry, or doing what you need to do to protect this town. I only ask that you allow me to stand beside you while you do it."

She bit her lip, looking away, resting her elbows on her knees. "I think I can handle that." She sighed. "Why couldn't this just be simple. A quick fuck to get you out of my system..."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I have no idea anymore." She fixed her gaze out on the water. "I don't know how to do...whatever this is. I don't know what you want from me."

"What do I want? I want you to trust me with your heart. Maybe not today, nor tomorrow, but I sincerely hope that someday you will choose to place it in my keeping." He looked again at the tattoo on his wrist. "I saw Dr. Whale today."

"Why?" She looked concerned.

"To inquire about the possibility of removing this." He gestured to the tattoo.

"Killian, Milah was a large part of your life. Why would you want to do that?"

"Because this wasn't about Milah. If it was, it would've been her name across a sun; she was that bright of a light to me." He shook his head. "This was about vengeance, about the Dark One, and about me wanting to keep my hatred alive with a constant reminder. I don't want to live like that anymore, Emma. I don't want to allow what he did to Milah to define me any longer."

She nodded, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of the tattoo. "I understand."

He rose and offered his hand to help her to her feet. "We should head back. Your parents will be worrying that you've killed me."

She didn't answer, but kept hold of his hand as they walked back to her front door.

He turned to her as she stood under the porch light. "So, Princess, still want to hit me?"

She shook her head. "I still don't understand it, but I understand why you did it."

"As I do have your parents' permission, I now ask for yours. May I court you, Emma?"

"I-" She looked down. "I don't-"

He tilted her chin up with a fingertip. "It's alright. I understand." He turned to walk down the path toward the street, shoulders slumped.

"Killian!" He was surprised to hear her footsteps coming after him, and felt her hand on his arm. "I'm not saying no. I just- I don't know how to do this... whatever this is. I've had my heart broken every time I've risked it. I don't know if I can do it again."

He looked down to the water to where the Jolly Roger bobbed lightly in the waves. "A ship in the harbor is safe, Princess, but that's not what ships are built for. Hearts don't work their best when sheltered either." His hand on her back guided her back up the porch steps. "Take your time, love. I'm not going anywhere." His hand cupped her cheek and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then felt his lips brush her forehead. "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight... Killian." She whispered, turning to unlock the door.

He walked down the path, stopping at the curb to make sure she was inside and waiting to hear the click of the lock, before continuing on to his ship and his bunk...alone.

Emma passed through the kitchen and into her bathroom, showering quickly and heading to bed. She found herself staring at the ceiling, her mind swirling with the day's events, with worry about Henry, worry about everything. Her thoughts wouldn't settle, kept turning back to him, to what he asked of her, to his promise that she could take her time, that he'd be there. Finally, she threw off the blanket and walked over to her bag, pulling out the shirt he'd given her that morning. Slipping it on, she breathed the fragrance of sea salt, spiced rum, and that scent that was uniquely him and settled back into bed, feeling wrapped in the comforting warmth she'd known the previous evening. Her eyes closed and she quickly drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Killian reached his quarters, stripped off his clothes and unbuckled the brace holding his hook to his arm, looking away from the twisted flesh at his left wrist as he rubbed the skin where the brace had left deep red creases. It wasn't comfortable, but it was effective. He set the hook and brace on his bedside table and bathed quickly, falling into bed as soon as he'd dried off.

He fell into a restless sleep filled with vivid dreams of Milah, of Rumplestiltskin ripping her heart from her, but when he caught her as she fell, it wasn't Milah at all, but Emma. He woke with a start and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders, shaking off the dream as best he could, over and buried his face in the pillow she'd used the night before, the soft scent of her hair lingering on the pillowcase, holding her pillow to his chest, reminding himself that she was home, she was safe, and he would see her in the morning to be sure of it. Slowly, he relaxed and fell back to sleep just as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

* * *

"Everyone, please quiet down!" Emma raised her voice over the crowd in the town hall that morning. "Please, everyone!"

Finally, Regina lost her temper and sent up a burst of magic that exploded with a bang and a shower of sparks. Everyone in the room gasped in surprise, and Emma took advantage of the moment of quiet to say "Everyone, sit down!" They sat. "Okay, from yesterday's scouting, we know the monkeys are coming from the caves near the sea. We're guessing Zelena has relocated her base there, as our patrols indicate that the farmhouse and basement have been abandoned. We need to get closer, find out what she's doing there. We also need a way to stun the monkeys. These are our friends, our... family." She stumbled over the word. "We can't risk hurting them."

"I think I can come up with something for the monkeys." Regina volunteered.

"Okay." Emma acknowledged. "And the cliffs?"

"We can take the Jolly Roger." She heard from the back of the room. She looked up in surprise and saw Hook leaning against the door. "She won't expect us to come from the sea."

Emma nodded as he strode toward her. "Anyone interested in coming with, meet at the docks in an hour. Everyone else, go home, stay indoors."

The room cleared rapidly, leaving Emma and Hook standing alone in the center. He cupped her cheek with his hand, whispering "Please don't hit me." and pulled her into a tight, desperate embrace.

Startled, Emma didn't know how to respond for a moment, and then brought her arms up around him, holding him to her until he released her slowly. She eyed him speculatively. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

He smirked. "Not particularly, no."

"How about you tell me anyway." She got a close look at him. "You look like hell."

"Rough night." He shrugged. "Dreams, is all."

She nodded. "Better?"

"Now." He confirmed. He leaned forward, his breath hot on her ear. "You slept in my shirt, Princess."

"How did you know that?" She snapped.

"I didn't." He smirked. "Until you just told me." He held up his hand to forestall her protest. "I'm glad you did. I did tell you to keep it, after all."

She shrugged, trying to brush off any significance. "It's comfortable."

He nodded, knowing pressing her on the subject would just make her run. "Shall we go for a sail?"

She nodded and followed him out the door and down to the harbor.

They were met by David, Mary Margaret, Smee, Leroy, Tink, and Belle. Hook strolled up the gangplank and turned to those gathered on the dock. "Well, come on then."

With most of the crew experienced from their sail to Neverland and back, the Jolly Roger was zipping off toward the sea cliffs in no time, reaching their destination after a three-quarter day's sail.

Catching a flash of light on the cliffs, Hook pulled out his spyglass for a look, collapsed it with a bang and yelled to Smee at the helm "Hard to port!"

Obeying his captain's orders without question, the ship leaned sharply to the left as Hook turned to the crew. "She's definitely on the cliffs. And I think we've been spotted."

Emma cursed under her breath as she saw a red haired figure clad in black standing on the ledge holding a staff of some kind. She watched as Zelena swirled the staff in the air and black clouds ominously began to gather. She slammed the staff into the ground, lightning springing from the tip and into the sky as the heavens opened and wind and rain poured down onto the ship.

Emma could almost hear Zelena screaming in glee as a large wave smashed into the side of the Jolly Roger, tossing Emma over the railing and toward the churning ocean below. As she plunged toward the rolling sea, something caught her around the wrist, jerking her to a stop inches above the water. Emma screamed as the abrupt stop jerked her shoulder out of its socket, and she looked up, seeing Hook with his good hand around her wrist, hook caught on the edge of the railing as the ship rocked with the waves battering her hull. She reached up and grabbed his wrist with her good arm, blinding pain shooting through her right shoulder. To her horror, she saw his hook slide on the railing, unable to grip into the wood with the ship rocking as she was.

"Hook!" She screamed, and he looked down at her, equal horror reflected in his eyes. "You have to let go."

He shook his head, his grip tightening on her wrist. "No."

"Killian!" She cried desperately, trying to make him understand. "You need to let me go or we're both going to fall. Please, save yourself. Let go."

"Never." He looked at her intensely, trying to convey everything he was feeling, trying to make her understand. "I'll never let go of you."

The ship gave another sharp roll and his hook slid off the edge of the railing, but that instant, David and Leroy were there, grabbing Hook by the arm, hauling them both back onto the deck.

The sea below churned into a whirlpool, lit from beneath with a bright glow. Emma began to think the pain had her hallucinating, but slowly, a trident staff emerged from the maelstrom, held by a merman with flowing white hair.

"Triton." Whispered David.

"Posideon" Whispered Hook.

"Same guy." Leroy offered.

"Zelena!" The MerKing bellowed. "What you do on land is no affair of mine, Witch, but the sea is not for you to trifle with." With a wave of his staff, the seas calmed and the storm dispersed. His staff sent a blast of wind and lightning toward the cliff the witch was standing on, and before it struck, Zelena disappeared in her trademark puff of smoke.

Ariel appeared in the waters alongside the Jolly Roger as Triton turned his back on the ship and dove back into the ocean. "Is everyone all right? I saw the storm and got my father as soon as I could. He's not concerned with the affairs of humans, but I knew he'd be upset with her messing with his ocean."

"Thank you, Ariel." David said gratefully. "We're all alive thanks to you."

"Just glad I could help." She dove away with a swish of her fins in the setting sun.

Emma slowly got to her feet, abruptly realizing her mistake as pain spiked through her shoulder. Her stomach rolled and she turned to the railing, the pain causing her to lose what little lunch she'd managed to eat earlier over the side of the boat.

Hook was instantly at her side, holding her hair back. When she was finished, she leaned heavily on the railing, accepting the water he handed her to rinse her mouth. "Love, let's go inside and see about that arm."

She nodded and allowed Hook to lead her into his cabin, settling her on the edge of the bed. He pressed a flask into her hand. "Drink."

She looked at him blankly.

"Drink, Princess." He shook his head. "I'm going to have to set your arm."

Realizing what he meant, she took a long swig of the rum. He ducked out and pulled David and Mary Margaret aside. "Her shoulder's dislocated. I can reset it for her, but it'll hurt. She'll probably want to just lie down for a while after."

Mary Margaret nodded. "Do what you need to do."

David moved toward the cabin, but Hook stopped him with a hand. "Emma is quite embarrassed about becoming sick. Resetting a shoulder is easy, but hardly painless, and her pride is already injured. Please, allow me to handle this?"

David acquiesced reluctantly. "Take care of her."

Hook nodded formally. "Always."

Emma was waiting nervously as he returned. She handed the flask back to him, and he noted it was significantly lighter than when he'd given it to her. "How are you feeling, love?" He asked as he lit the lantern on the desk, its glow countering the darkness from the now set sun.

"I've got a dislocated shoulder, Hook. How do you think I'm feeling?" She grumbled.

He gently helped her ease out of her jacket and sweatshirt, leaving her in her in the tank top she'd worn as her first layer, and came around to crouch in front of her, his hand on her good arm, feeling her tremble beneath his fingers from the combined pain, adrenaline, and cold. "Emma, love, I'm not going to lie to you. This will hurt. Probably a lot."

She nodded. "I know. Get on with it."

He slipped behind her so he could grab her wrist with his good right hand. "On three then. One..." and before she could react, deftly twisted her arm up, settling her shoulder back into the socket.

She let out a short scream of pain and then turned to glare at him, shaking with residual pain. "What happened to counting to three?"

"Couldn't have you tensing up." He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, coming around to stand in front of her again. "I'm sorry for causing you further pain."

She looked down, disconcerted by the intensity of his gaze. "It's okay. It feels a lot better now." She paused. "Killian?"

"Yes, love?"

"If David hadn't grabbed you in time, we both would've died. If you'd had your hand free, you could've at least pulled yourself back on deck." She asked quietly, not sure if she really wanted the answer. "Why didn't you let me go?"

He shrugged, leaning back against the table. "Wasn't possible, love."

She stood angrily, then thought better of it as the room spun and sat back down on the bed, right arm cradled in her lap, but her left fist slamming against the mattress. "Damn it, Killian! You almost died! You almost died for no damn reason!" She was crying now. "We need everyone! We need every person to stand and fight the witch. Nobody gets to make noble sacrifices that won't do any good!"

"Not your decision, Princess." He snapped. "You are not expendable, Emma, and were I to do it over again, I'd do the same bloody thing! Losing you is not an option!"

"I don't want anyone sacrificing themselves for me, Killian Jones!" Emma yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Especially not you! I care about you, you stupid pirate!" She stopped abruptly, both of them realizing what she'd said.

Her words weighed heavily in the room, silence settling over them both. Not answering her, he turned and walked over to his desk, opening the bottle of rum and pouring a splash into two glasses. He extended the glass to her, and she took it with shaking hands. He raised his own glass, the rum sparkling in the candlelight. "A toast." She looked at him curiously. "Here's to stealing, lying, and cheating." Her brow furrowed in confusion as he continued. "May you never steal, but if you must, steal hearts. May you never lie unless it is beside your true love, and if you must cheat, Princess..." His eyes met hers in the candle's glow. "May you always cheat death, for I never want to know what this world is like without you in it." He tossed back his drink in one swallow while she sipped at hers. "You should get some rest, love."

She nodded, and perhaps it was the trauma of the injury, a remnant of the earlier terror of nearly drowning, or just a desire not to put him out of his own bed again, she reached for his sleeve. "Stay here with me?"

He nodded. "Just allow me to let your parents know you are well."

He stepped out of the cabin to deliver the message, and Mary Margaret and David were waiting right outside. "I need to see her." Mary Margaret stated. "I need to know she's okay."

He stepped back and allowed them to enter, giving the family five minutes alone before going back inside. "Emma's had a long day. She should rest."

Knowing he was right, Mary Margaret and David reluctantly allowed themselves to be gently herded from the room. "And where will you be sleeping?" David asked with a glare.

Hook thumbed toward the hammock. "I'll be a perfect gentleman, I assure you."

"David!" Emma's voice came from the cabin. "Leave it be."

Hook came back inside and shut the cabin door, walking over to retrieve the lantern from the desk after seeing her settled in bed, retrieving a clean shirt and soft pants from the wardrobe. He took the lantern with him into the washroom, setting it next to the basin. Stripping off his shirt, he reached for the buckles holding his brace and hook to his left forearm, gasping in pain as the buckles were pulled free from where they'd embedded in his skin from holding his body weight and Emma's. He grabbed a cloth and rinsed the blood from his arm, wrapping a bandage around his forearm near his elbow to staunch the bleeding. After cleaning off his brace and rinsing himself off as best he could in the small room, he slipped into the pants and shirt, pulling the drawstring on the left cuff tight to cover the stump of his forearm.

Emma was already dosing as he returned. He replacing the lantern on the desk and turned toward the hammock, turning back to her at her whisper of "Killian? Over here." Without allowing himself a second thought he slid into bed behind her, wrapping his arm around her and pulled her close, his heart pounding in his chest as he pondered exactly how close he'd come to losing her. He buried his face in her hair, her soft scent reassuring him that she was still here, still warm and breathing beside him as he slipped into an exhausted sleep, gripping her tightly to him even as he dreamed.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He awoke the next morning to find her still in his arms, stirring awake a few moments after he did. He handed her a glass of water from the bedside table, asking "How are you feeling this morning, love?"

She shrugged, sipping at the water. "My shoulder aches, but not like it did yesterday."

He nodded, reluctantly releasing her and slipping out of bed, knowing Smee would be wanting help bringing the Jolly Roger into port. He reached for his hook and brace, his back to Emma, concealing his damaged flesh from her view, not looking forward to strapping the brace back onto his wounded arm knowing the buckles were going to irritate the fresh wounds, but unwilling to give up a potential weapon with Zelena still loose.

"Killian."

He froze as he heard her call his name. "Yes, love?"

"Before you do that -" She reached toward him. "May I see?"

"The hook?" He asked, hoping to deflect her inquiry.

"No."

"The arm isn't something I normally show off, Princess." His words came out more harshly than he'd intended.

"I'm sorry." She said softly. "I shouldn't have asked."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, the tension in his body almost tangible as he considered his response. "No. You should have. You of all people have the right to ask that of me." He shook his head at his own cowardice. "I've asked you to consider sharing your heart with me, and here I am hesitating about sharing myself with you. Bloody hypocritical of me, isn't it?" He laughed mirthlessly as he turned to face her. "I've many scars, love. Most aren't even on the outside." He picked up his brace and tossed it on the foot of the bed, then crossed the room to sit on the bed hear her feet. "I will warn you, Princess. It's not a pretty sight."

She sat up and moved next to him, touching his shoulder. "It really is okay. You don't have to show me."

He kept his gaze focused on the floorboards. "If you want to look, love, I've nothing to hide from you."

Recognizing how difficult this clearly was for him, she held out her hand to him. "Then please, let me see."

"As you wish." He extended his arm to her, looking away from her at the floor, at the window, at anything but her eyes, fearing the disgust he knew would be there once she saw. He was well aware that while his leather covered hook arm cut a dashing figure many woman found attractive, the reality of the mottled flesh beneath the brace was enough to turn most stomachs.

He felt her untie the drawstring cuff he'd pulled tight yesterday evening, not wanting to accidentally expose his mutilated arm during the night. As she rolled back the cuff a few inches, he heard her breath catch in her throat, and he stiffened, mentally steeling himself against her revulsion, wondering how it was possible to be fully clothed yet feel so totally naked in front of her.

He felt her fingertip lightly trace the twisted scar that roped its way up his forearm and he dared raise his eyes to meet hers. He had been expecting to see disgust, even contempt, and was utterly floored when all he saw was... compassion?

He jumped slightly as her touch traveled up his forearm, gently unwrapping the bandage he'd hastily applied the prior evening. "I'm sorry." She apologized, withdrawing. "Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head. "No, love. You just surprised me. Touching that-" he inclined his head towards the stump of his left wrist. "isn't the usual reaction I get from women."

"Oh." She reached again for his arm and he offered no resistance. "Is this from yesterday? Both our weight on the straps?" She asked, indicating the fresh wounds near his elbow, and he nodded. Rewrapping the bandage, her fingertips explored the old raised scars, moving down to his wrist and over the end of the stump, her touch soothing away the dull ache that was almost always present. "What happened?"

"You know what happened. Rumple-" He began, stopping when she held up a hand to interrupt.

"No, I know that part. I mean what happened to make the scarring so bad?"

He looked away again. "A ship isn't always the cleanest environment, Princess. Infection set in, even after Smee cauterized it." He shuddered at the memory of Smee pressing the red hot metal against his bleeding stump. "I'm afraid I passed out during that occurrence." He admitted reluctantly. "My memories of the next few weeks are spotty at best. Fever set in, followed by gangrene. Smee did what he could for it until finally a healer was found. Not much she could have done about the scarring at that point, but she did rid me of the infection. Saved my miserable life for sure."

Emma's touch slowly became less of an exploration and more of a caress. "I'm glad she did." Her fingers danced lightly over his scar. "I'm glad to have met you." She raised his arm to her lips and softly kissed the inside of his wrist, then the top of his stump, over the worst of the scars. He shuddered with the overwhelming intimacy of the simple act, closing his eyes at the feeling of her lips on the part of his body he most detested. "In case you haven't figured it out even after me saying so yesterday, I do care for you, Killian. All of you." She rested her head on his shoulder, allowing his wrist to drop back into his lap. "Even your scars."

He searched for words. I am...relieved to hear you say that." He reached for his brace and hook and slid it over his wrist, reaching around for the strap to buckle it around his forearm.

Her hands brushed his aside. "Please, let me." He allowed her to fasten the buckle, acknowledging that the task was far easier for her two hands.

He stood, gathering his dignity around him like a cloak. "I don't know about you, Princess, but I am ravenous. Shall we go to the galley for some breakfast?"

* * *

  
  


Emma avoided him for the next few days, which he'd rather expected after their closeness on the Jolly Roger and her near-death experience. He knew she would want her space to sort through her own feelings, but was disappointed all the same. He stood at the bow of his ship and gazed out to sea, wondering if a time would ever come where her instinct would be to run to him rather than from him.

She had spent her days hidden away with Regina, searching for a magical solution to the monkey problem, and her evenings with David and Snow. She hadn't sent him any signal that his presence would be welcome, so he gave her the space she seemed to crave, even though her absence left a noticeable ache in his heart. His bed seemed so much colder without her in it, even though he'd only shared it with her twice. Without her warmth beside him, he tossed and turned at night, sleep just out of his reach.

He closed his eyes, his face to the wind, and when he heard her soft whisper he thought for a moment he was imagining it, that his wishful heart had conjured her up in his mind, until her hand touched his shoulder. "Hook?"

He jumped, startled, trying to laugh off his surprise with a shake of his head and a muttered "Still not my name, Princess."

"Not my name either, Pirate." Emma folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh, but it is..." He turned to look at her. She was beautiful there in the sunset, the light painting her in soft hues of red and gold. "You, love, are the child of a prince and a princess, making you also a princess." His hand brushed her shoulder. "You, darling, are Princess Emma of the Enchanted Forest, whether you like it or not." He smirked at Emma's glare. "Now, Princess, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I want a rematch." Emma stated.

"A what?" Hook stared at her.

"A rematch. You. Me. Eight Ball. Rabbit Hole. Remember?"

Hook laughed. "And what makes you think you can best met his time, Swan?"

She shook her head. "I don't really care who wins." She admitted. "I just need to take my mind off everything for a while, and shooting pool and drinking whisky is usually a good way to do it."

"I'll stick to rum if you don't mind, but I accept your challenge." He offered her his arm. "To the Rabbit Hole, then, my lady?"

They found the little bar to be fairly empty, as it was early on a weeknight. A few regulars paid them no mind as they got their drinks and pool cues. Hook offered Emma the triangle but caught her arm as she walked to the far side of the table. "If this is a rematch, love, we should agree on the stakes."

Emma shrugged. "What did you have in mind?"

He thought for a moment. "What do you want?"

She leaned up against the table. "When this is all over, take me sailing?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "You've been sailing, Princess."

"Not really. I've been on a ship to get somewhere. To Neverland, to the cliffs. I've never been on a ship just to be on a ship. Haven't really had a chance to enjoy it for what it is." She said wistfully.

"If you win, I will take you anywhere you'd like to go." He'd take her sailing anyway, of course, whether she won or not, but if that's what she chose to ask for, he'd go with it.

She nodded. "So what do you want?"

He considered her question. "If I win, you allow me to take you on a proper date. I've been told that is the custom here?" She nodded. "And shooting pool in a bar is hardly a proper way to court a princess, after all."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. You win, you can take me to dinner. I'll even put on a dress. Fair?"

He offered his hand and she shook it, sealing the bet, and motioned for her to rack. She did so, handing him the cue ball on her way to the juke box. As he lined up his break, resting the cue in the spot where his hook met his brace, he heard her drop in a few quarters and watched her finish her drink as she moved back to the table, setting the glass down hard on the bar and accepting the second one the bartender had waiting for her.

As Hook sank his fourth solid and finished his first rum, Emma was halfway through her third whisky. She walked behind him on the way back to the juke box, her hand brushing along his thigh as she passed in a way he would have assumed was accidental had he not been watching her. She dropped another coin in the juke box and strolled back to the opposite side of the table, bending over low to line up her shot, giving him a full view of the lacy edge of her bra as she did so. She raised an eyebrow as she saw him looking but made no move to stop him from doing so, promptly sank her second stripe as he stared down her shirt, not quite sure he should be looking there yet unable to look away.

He finished his drink and waved off the bartender, figuring at the rate Emma was drinking perhaps one of them should remain sober. She missed her next shot, the alcohol beginning to alter her coordination, and he sank three more solids on his next turn before missing a shot. She grabbed another drink, lined up her shot and missed, leaving him to sink his last solid before shooting for the eight-ball as she downed half her whisky in one swallow. "Five balls still on the table." He observed. "One might think you actually want to go on a date with me, Princess." He looked back to the table and sank the eight in one shot, startled to find her directly behind him as he straightened up.

He turned toward her and was surprised to feel her run her hand down his chest. His breathing quickened as she purred "Maybe I do."

Well, this was unexpected. He'd known Emma wanted to blow off some steam, but he wasn't expecting her to do it by coming on to him. He brushed her hair away from her face with his good hand, and as she looked up at him, he took advantage of the moment to remove her whisky from her hand and down it himself. "You're drunk, love."

"Hey! That's the second time you've stolen my drink!" Emma pouted. Her hands closed around his coat collar, pulling him near. "That's not nice, Captain. I think you need to make it up to me." Her hand played with the laces on his shirt.

His hand closed around her wrist like a vice, his eyes darkening. "Walk with me, Princess." It wasn't a question. He nodded to the bartender to keep the change from the gold coins he'd handed him at the start of the evening and led her out the door, questioning whether being alone with her in this state was a good idea, but unwilling to make a public spectacle out of it.

He felt the cool breeze on his face as Emma pressed close, clinging to his arm. "So where're we going?"

"Back to the Jolly Roger." He said tersely, wondering to himself exactly how much self-control the fates expected one man to have.

"Are you taking me back to your ship, Captain Hook?" She teased.

"Not my name, love." He muttered.

"Captain Killian." Her hand caressed his arm as she spoke.

"That'll do." He led her down the road to the docks and carefully up the gangplank to the Jolly Roger. The last thing he needed was her losing her balance and ending up in the water.

He led her directly into his cabin and closed the door behind them, rummaging quickly in the wardrobe and handing her a shirt and some loose pants. "Here. Go change." He pushed her gently toward the washroom. "I'm not sending you home in this condition. Your father would have my head."

Emma grumbled something about needing to find her own place again and stepped into the washroom. He quickly changed out of his own leathers and into a clean shirt and soft pants, then leaned against the wall, eyes closed. This was not how he'd envisioned the next time she'd be sleeping in his quarters. His eyes opened when he heard her soft whisper "Killian?"

He took in the vision before him. She was wearing his shirt, but as far as he could tell, that was all she was wearing. It barely covered the tops of her thighs, and she'd left the top unlaced, letting the shirt fall open in a deep vee between her breasts, the lacy bra he'd seen earlier obviously no longer present. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, reaching for the last shreds of his self-control.

She smiled softly. "See something you like?" Her fingertips slipped between the laces of his shirt to dance on his chest.

"You know I do." He caught her by the shoulders, stilling her hand. "But right now I'd be a lot more comfortable if you'd put some bloody pants on."

"I thought you wanted me." She looked away, uncertainty crossing her face, the alcohol allowing him to see a vulnerability she normally would have hidden deeply behind a strong facade.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I do want you, love." He whispered into her hair.

"Then why..." she asked, half voicing the question of why wasn't he responding. "I want you." Her hand trailed down to his hip.

"Because you're not sober." He held her close, not giving her hands room to wander further. "When you are, tell me that again and I might believe it."

"I'm just a little buzzed." She countered. "It was only three drinks."

"Three and a half. In less than thirty minutes." He countered. "You're a lot more than buzzed, darling."

"Killian." She whispered, trying move back enough to look up at him. "Just a kiss then?"

"Emma, love, listen to me, please." He took her by the hand and led her to his bed, sitting down and pulling her down to sit next to him. "I want you. I've never made a secret of that. I want you in my bed, I want to wake up with you every morning from now until forever, but most of all, I want your love, Emma." His fingers brushed her arm. "I refuse to take you tonight only to have you hate me for it in the morning."

"I wouldn't hate you." She said softly.

"I'm not about to take that chance." He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. "Emma, I want you in my bed because you want to be there, not because you want to forget your problems for a while." His fingers tangled in her hair. "Now, what happened today to have you so upset?"

She shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want to think about it."

He laughed softly. "You're already thinking about it, love." She mumbled something into his chest. "What was that?"

"Nothing I do makes a difference. I can't get rid of the witch. I can't even control my own stupid power!" With that word, the candles in the room flared up brightly and then went dark. "See? It keeps doing that, and I can't get it to work when I want it to. Regina says I have to get it under control or-" She sat up and looked away.

Her voice trailed off, prompting him to ask "Or?"

"Or we won't be able to get Henry back!" She slammed her fist down onto the bedspread, the force of the impact shaking the bed. "We've been trying! Regina and I have been doing nothing but trying for days! I feel so fucking helpless!" Tears streaked down her face. "All this power, all this magic, and I can't even help my own child. What kind of mother am I?"

He pressed her against his chest. "You're doing all that you can. You can't expect more of yourself. What else could you possibly be doing? Storming the sea cliffs on your own? It'd just get you killed and change nothing for Henry. Practice your magic until you fall over? Magic comes with a price, love, and working with yours too much would make you vulnerable and accomplish nothing. You are working with Regina, with Snow and the Prince, you have Regina tracking her movements, scouting parties collecting information, and Belle doing research to see if there's something in that library of hers that might help." He stroked her hair as she sobbed into his shirt. "Until you have the information, Emma love, there is nothing else you can do right now."

"I know that." She sniffed. "I just... I miss my kid."

"I know, lass." He slowly leaned back, taking her with him until they were reclined on the bed. Emma curled herself around him. "We will get him back safely." He pulled a blanket up over both of them and placed his hook within reach on the bedside table. "Now, as you so kindly put the candles out for us, I'd suggest you get some sleep."

"Killian?" He barely heard her whisper from where her face was buried in his shoulder.

"What is it, Princess?"

"Thank you."

He brushed her hair away from her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Anytime, love."

* * *

  
  


Emma woke to the sun streaming through the window and a jackhammer of a headache in her skull. She rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head, blocking out the light.

"Good morning, darling." Killian's amused voice floated in from the doorway.

"What's so good about it?" Emma muttered.

He closed the curtains, darkening the room, and set a glass on the bedside table. "Drink that."

She opened one eye to look at him. "What is it?"

"Smee's hangover cure." He smirked at her as she reached for the glass of murky purple liquid. "And for God's sake, don't smell it!"

She held her nose and downed it in one gulp, making a face. "Blech... that's horrible! What on Earth was in that?"

"You don't want to know." He took the glass from her and rinsed it, filling it with water and handing it back. "It's damned effective, though."

"You look like you've been up for hours. Do I even want to know what time it is?"

He shrugged. "Probably not."

She sat up and moved to stand, then realized she wasn't wearing pants. "Do I even want to know what happened last night?"

"Nothing untoward, I assure you, Princess."

"Nevermind... I remember." She flopped back into the bed, face flushing. "I am so embarrassed. Killian, I'm sorry."

He smirked. "It was rather nice to see you relax a bit, love. Though next time you decide to come on to me, I'd like to be able to be certain it wasn't just caused by four glasses of whisky."

"Three and a half." She muttered, looking away.

"Three and a half." He conceded. "I'll be on deck, when you're feeling better."

He left the room and walked through the hall and up onto the deck. Keeping busy, he grabbed a mop and had swabbed three-quarters of the deck by the time she made her way up into the light.

"I don't know what was in that drink, but it does work." She acknowledged.

"Bloody awful tasting, though."

"Yeah."

She glanced at the mop in his hand. "I thought you had deckhands for that?"

"I do. However, as they're currently indisposed tracking down flying monkeys, and the Jolly Roger's deck still needed cleaning, the chore was left to her captain." He went back to his cleaning as she watched him work. When he finished, he poured the water in the bucket overboard and moved to put the mop away. She stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Killian..."

"Yes, love?"

"I just..." She paused, searching for words. "Thank you."

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Anytime, love."

"I have to-" She inclined her head toward the town. She took a few steps toward the gangplank, and he turned toward the closet to put the mop away.

"And Killian?" He turned back when he heard her voice, startled at what he saw in her eyes. She bit her lip, as if thinking twice on what she was about to admit. "I do want you. It's just... With everything, with Henry missing, I just can't think about that now."

He nodded. "Understood." He leaned the mop against the wall and crossed the deck to her in two strides. "But Princess, when this is over-" He cupped her cheek with his hand. "I am holding you to our bet. You owe me a date."

She nodded. "When this is over." He kissed her forehead and was startled to feel her arms come around his waist. She stepped close to him and rested her head on his chest. He hugged her back tightly, allowing himself these few moments to just hold her. He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, his hand tangled in her hair, her cheek pressed against his chest. Finally, she released him and moved away, and he let her go reluctantly. "I really do need to get back."

He took a step back. "Go on, then. I'll see you later." He watched her as she walked away, down the gangplank, up the dock and onto the street, turning out of sight at the old cannery. Chuckling to himself, he leaned against the wall, shaking his head in disbelief. She actually wanted him!

* * *

  
  


Every time Killian saw Emma over the next few days, she was in the middle of something that he saw no need to interrupt for idle conversation, such as magic lessons with Regina, so he merely caught her eye in greeting and continued on his way. Finally, he saw her sitting alone in a corner booth at Granny's picking at a mostly untouched lunch. He approached cautiously, uncertain if she wanted company. "Problem with the food, love?"

She shook her head. "Just not hungry."

"May I join you?" He inquired, not wanting to impose if she didn't wish it, as she seemed to be brooding about something.

She nodded, and to his surprise, she slid over in the booth, indicating he should sit next to her rather than on the other bench across the table. He slid his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, closing her eyes. His hand stroked her hair, content to hold her as long as she would allow it. "Emma, are you okay?"

She nodded. "Just tired. Tired of practicing magic, tired of wondering where the hell the witch is and what she's up to, tired of missing Henry and hoping somehow he'll be okay. I wish this would just be over."

Suddenly, the entire building shuddered and the screams of the townsfolk and the screeches of flying monkeys echoed in from the outside. Emma and Killian both sprang to their feet. "I think you may just get your wish, love!"

They ran outside to see the sky dark with the witch's simian minions armed with swords, knives, and blow darts. Regina stood in the middle of the street trying to shield those she could while holding back the monkeys, though they'd never perfected the freezing spell and it only lasted a few moments. Emma joined her at her side, Regina cursing under her breath. "Ice isn't my element. I don't want to blast them with fire; they're our own people!" She looked over at Emma. "You haven't found your element yet. You try it!"

Emma murmured the ice spell and four of the monkeys froze in place. "Let's see if it lasts." Unfortunately, her actions caught the eye of several other members of the monkey army, and they quickly turned toward the new threat. She waved her hand to freeze the one approaching her with a sword, not seeing the one above her with the darts.

"Emma!" Killian screamed as he saw the dart hit her shoulder. He was at her side in an instant, catching her as she fell, tearing open her shirt at the shoulder only to see the blackness of a curse beginning to spread. He brushed her hair away from her face. "Emma! No! Stay with me, love!" He begged.

"Killian-" She reached her had up to caress his face, barely managing to get the words past her lips. "Love you."

"Emma! Please don't leave me." He pleaded, not just with her but with all the world, with the whole of magic. He felt her heart begin to slow under his hand, and in a moment of sheer desperation, he bent forward and lightly pressed his lips to hers. With a loud crack and a flash of light, his world went dark.

* * *

  
  


Emma awoke slowly, blinking in the bright light of the airy bedroom. She looked around as familiar faces came into focus. "Where am I?"

"You're in the Enchanted Forest, Love." Hook's voice came from her bedside.

Emma turned her gaze to the man who had barely left her side in a week, shaking her head in an effort to clear the fog in her mind. "But how?"

David stepped forward. "As best we can tell, you two broke the curse."

"And not just the curse in the dart that hit you." Snow supplied. "All of them."

"All of them?" Emma repeated blankly.

"All of them. Every dark curse within the town limits." Rumple stepped forward, revealing the dagger in his hand, now empty of all writing. "This is nothing more than a very good blade with some very bad memories now, Dearie."

"But... how?" Emma managed, looking around the room.

David sat on the edge of the bed and offered her a goblet of water. Her hands shook as she accepted it, and Hook steadied it, helping her to drink. "As near as we can tell," David began, "When Hook kissed you, your love for him somehow twisted together with your love for Henry and the town, and that, blended with your raw magic, and it did..." he waived his hand around the room. "This. We're home. There's no trace of the witch."

She blinked, barely following the conversation, but latching on to one word. "Henry?"

Regina and Henry entered the room, Henry running to Emma and throwing his arms around her neck. "You're awake!"

Regina followed slowly behind him. "When you and Hook kissed, you broke all the dark curses. The witch's curse on Henry and the other monkeys, the one that I used to suppress Henry's memories. We've been getting reacquainted over the last week. He's been very worried about you." She approached cautiously, as if unsure she'd be welcome.

Emma cradled Henry with one arm and reached to Regina with the other. "You love Henry. That makes you family." Regina took her hand slowly and allowed Emma to pull her into a three-way hug, though she looked fairly uncomfortable and extracted herself at the first polite moment.

"You're really okay! You've been asleep over a week!" Henry gushed. "I was starting to think you'd never wake up."

Regina rested her hand on Henry's shoulder. "Henry, we talked about this. All magic, even true love's magic, comes with a price. It's never the easiest answer. In this case, from what we can tell, the magic used to break the curse on the dart that hit Emma came from Hook." She acknowledged Hook with a nod. "It was a very powerful curse and we still don't know exactly what it was meant to do, but breaking that one curse took a lot of his personal energy, which is why it took two days for him to wake up."

Emma looked to Hook. "Two days?"

He squeezed her hand. "I'm fine now, Love. Just had a mother of a headache for a bit."

Henry looked at Regina impatiently. "But she was asleep so much longer!"

"Because while Hook's energy went to heal Emma, Emma's magical energy healed everything. You, Rumple, and it even healed the land. Storybrooke was the product of a dark curse. It was never meant to be. Emma's release of raw magic unwove all of it." She looked back and forth between Emma and Hook. "It was the most powerful act of true love in recorded history."

Emma flushed and looked down, while Hook looked uncomfortably around the room. "If Emma feels anything like I did when I woke up, she needs some rest."

Everyone slowly cleared out of the room, David and Snow herding a protesting Henry toward the door. Regina lingered behind, and Hook rose from Emma's side, giving her a questioning look.

"She's going to need a lot of help, Killian." Regina began, speaking for his ears only. "Her magical channels weren't opened through training; they were blasted open. She has to learn to control it. She will need a lot of patience, help, and someone to hold her hand every step."

"You know I will..."

Regina reached for his left arm and he shied away, still uncomfortable with people handling the hook that had defined him for so many years. Regina caught his elbow. "Please." He met her eyes and then cautiously nodded, allowing her to unbuckle his brace and gently slide the hook off his stump. "I know you'll be there for Emma. I know you'll be there to catch her and hold her hand." He felt heat rising through his arm and looked down curiously. "This might help."

He felt a searing pain and cried out as light flashed behind his eyelids as he fell to his hands and knees. His brain took a moment to process that. _Hands_ and knees. Hands. As in two. He sat back on his heels, staring down in disbelief, opening and closing his fingers. "Regina... I..." he began.

"No totally painless way to reconnect nerves, unfortunately." She helped him to his feet and then sagged back against the wall. "And as I told Henry, all magic comes with a price. I'm going to go lay down before I fall down."

With that, she was gone, leaving Hook reaching after her, whispering "Thank you" to the empty air. Finally gathering his wits, he returned to Emma's bedside, taking her hand in both of his. "Well, that was unexpected."

"Maybe she thought everyone should have a fresh start." She chuckled to herself. "So... the most powerful act of true love in history, and I wasn't even conscious to remember it."

Hook smiled rakishly. "I'd be happy to reenact it for you anytime, Princess."

_...and they lived happily ever after._

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please drop a review and let me know what you think!


End file.
